Heartstrings and Bloodlines
by qwanderer
Summary: Tony is in his fourth year at Hogwarts, busy being captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, developing new enchanted objects, living up to the name of Stark, and unaware of the enemies lurking around him. - May become FrostIron slash in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Heartstrings and Bloodlines**

**Chapter 1**

"As your team captain, I am _disgusted_ that you got caught."

Loki looked bored as the younger boy lectured him. Team captain or not, Tony Stark was still beneath him.

"Rogers asked Rhodey to tell me to tell you to _stop cheating._ All I'm asking is that you get _better_ at it. You stop being an asset to the team, you're off it."

Loki began a retort to that, but Stark spoke over him.

"And don't start with who your father is, Odinson, or I might have to remind you who _I_ am. The Minister of Magic may have influence here but it's nothing compared to what it means to be the genius behind Stark Spellworks."

"Well, I'd like to think that some wizards still respect tradition," Loki said. "I don't know what people see in the spawn of a muggle-born witch and a wizard who turned the most tried and true spells on their heads."

"Did I mention my parents?" Tony growled, eyes darkening. "No, _I'm_ the one you have to worry about. The one who's a master of enchantments, invented the magical multitool, revolutionized broomstick technology. Go ahead, ask Professor Lensherr who he'd rather have on the Slytherin Quidditch team, you or me. But remember to tell him that if I go, I'm taking my brooms with me."

Loki laughed and shook his head, holding up his Firebolt 480. "Stark brooms aren't the best in the world. How do you like to put it? They've still got a few kinks to work out. Besides, all a Quidditch team really needs is a sharp-eyed Seeker on a fast broom. And that is me." Loki leaned forward, smiling. "So I might just take you up on that challenge."

Tony sighed in aggravation. "This is a waste of time. Look, do you _enjoy_ getting caught cheating?"

"Obviously not."

"So next time do better," Tony said, turning away from the taller fifth year. Great Salazar's ghost, these pissing matches were exhausting. Tony needed the refuge of his workshop.

He strolled down the passage he'd found in his third year. It had been collapsed then, but he'd excavated and reinforced it. He entered the rooms he rented for his private experiments, set down his bag, and clapped his hands. "All right! What are we working on today? Jarvey?"

A large ferret-like creature crawled out of his bag and scrambled across the worktable. "The stabilizing charms on the broomsticks could use some work, sir," the creature spoke. "You may also want to look at building a new wand casing. The more you use the enhanced core, the faster the wood disintegrates, and you have been rather busy recently."

He got completely lost in the wand design, and it was hours later when he looked up to find a small black owl alighting on his worktable.

"What are you doing in here, Dummy? I don't need a mail carrier, I need an extra hand, or possibly a third superintelligent brain. Never could reproduce whatever I did to Jarvey, though."

"I rather enjoy being one-of-a-kind," the enchanted rodent offered. "In any case, it looks as though Dummy already has a letter."

"Ha! You're right. Who's been using my owls without asking?" Tony untied the letter from Dummy's leg and opened it.

It was from Pepper.

The bookish Hufflepuff had taken a liking to him, spirits only knew why. Well, he was Tony Stark, of course, but this wasn't the usual hero worship. She actually seemed to take an interest in what he did and not just who he was.

_Something tells me this will find you off school grounds without permission. I won't expect you at chess club, or dinner for that matter, but please do eat, and if you get a chance, remember to do your astronomy essay. I suspect you'll just get Jarvey to write it, but if you do, please don't tell me about it. It hurts my soul. Yours, Pepper Potts._

They had met second year, in the chess club that Pepper had organized. Tony supposed he could see why she spent so much effort socializing with people from other houses - the other Hufflepuff girls of their year, Janet Van Dyne and Darcy Lewis, were "certainly very friendly," as Pepper once put it diplomatically, but they were annoying in the extreme and were rarely seen without each other, except when Janet was on the Quidditch pitch. And they certainly didn't have the patience for wizard's chess.

Tony looked at the letter, looked at his work, and looked at Dummy. He went to the shelves and dug out some owl treats, as well as a stick of Wonka gum to chew as he worked. As far as he was concerned, the stuff was one of the greatest magical inventions that wasn't his.

He gave Dummy the treats, then wrote on the back of the letter: _Chess, tomorrow, I promise. I'll handicap myself two pieces, your choice._

He sealed the letter, tied it back on to Dummy's leg, then ruffed up the feathers on the little black owl's head as he said, "Take that back to Pepper and give her a kiss for me, will you? You know she hates that."

Tony smiled to himself and went back to the complex business of wandmaking.

* * *

He and Pepper had their promised chess game the next day over lunch. The Hufflepuffs certainly weren't going to argue with having the fabulous Tony Stark sit at their table, and although the other Slytherins glared in their direction, they would never actually say anything against the teenaged billionaire in public. Tony wouldn't let glares stop him from doing anything. The Ministry kept time turners under very strict control, so Tony had to do what he could with the time he had, and chess with Pepper was important.

Tony's chess set was habitually rude in the extreme, only egged on by Jarvey, who, generally speaking, pretended to be a regular idiot jarvey when in the public eye. He was currently in an insult war with Darcy, scrambling around on her head and attempting to steal chicken from her plate.

"Stark, if you don't get your terrible rodent off of me, I will poison your chocolate stash," she whined at him genially.

"Jarvey, get out of Miss Lewis's hair and go bother someone else," Tony said absently as he considered his next move, then relayed orders to his chessmen.

Janet, seated on the far side of Darcy, humphed and said, "If that thing so much as touches me, I will consider it an attempt at sabotage of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team before tonight's game."

"Fine," Tony sighed. "Jarvey, you'd better get back here. These girls are no fun at all." Then he frowned. "Wait, the game is tonight?"

Pepper tutted. "No matter how popular you are, your housemates would _not_ forgive you for flaking out on a Quidditch game. Especially after fraternizing with the enemy over lunch."

Pepper directed her troops, then continued. "For a genius, you certainly look oddly like an idiot child sometimes."

"I'm distractable. It's understandable. I get ideas."

"It's not just that. Your phoenix is named You. Your jarvey is named Jarvey! You really need help with creative naming of things."

"Uh, excuse me but these are my personal things and I'll call them what I want. If you think you can improve the product names Stark Spellworks use for marketing, be my guest. But leave my animals out of it."

Pepper chuckled. "Ah, that distracted you all right. Checkmate."

Tony pretended to look flustered, and actually he hadn't intended to lose. But he did always enjoy the smile on Pepper's face when it happened.

He wasn't surprised. After all, he had been handicapped a queen.

* * *

Tony Stark absolutely adored flying.

As far as he was concerned flying was the best thing in the world, and any excuse to be up on his broom was a great one. Playing Quidditch against Hufflepuff was one of the best.

Everyone on the team was at least decent. When Happy could manage to aim the bludger, it hit hard. When Janet had the quaffle, she was near impossible to stop. And getting a shot past Bucky in the Keeper's position was always a challenge. Even the combined force of the legendary chaser pairing of Stark and Romanoff had trouble. The Slytherins worked wonderfully together, Tony drawing all the attention while Natasha appeared seemingly out of nowhere to take the shot. Bucky was not easy prey even then.

But the real prize of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team was their seeker, Clint "Hawkeye" Barton, who always, always, always saw the Snitch first.

Stark prepped his team before the game. Other than Nat, who was a fourth year like him, the whole Slytherin team was both older and taller than him. If it intimidated him, he'd never let it show.

"Odinson," he said, "You know Barton is never going to fall for your illusions. He can tell a Snitch from fairy fire from half a mile. So for once, just focus on catching the thing yourself, all right? Watch Barton; remember, your broom is faster than his."

Loki's mouth tightened, but he nodded.

Tony enjoyed the game immensely. He scored two goals, and helped Natasha get another three. Hufflepuff only scored once, Janet of course. Tony couldn't spare much attention for the Seekers, but he did notice Loki hovering overhead and looking incredibly bored, and Barton even farther up, sitting on his broom almost nonchalant.

The next time Tony spotted Barton he was zipping downward, almost straight down, and he had the Snitch barely after Loki had noticed the motion. The crowd cheered. Loki looked exasperated.

"Your advice was _extremely_ helpful, Stark," he spat as they walked off towards the showers. "Next time I'll do things my way."

Tony shrugged. He had done his part. "You're the sharp-eyed Seeker, practically the team all on your own, isn't that right? If you can't get the job done without a little enhancement, that's no business of mine." Tony smirked.

Loki continued walking, appearing unconcerned. But Tony knew he'd hit his mark.

* * *

The next week, Tony made it to chess club. Seven minutes late and trailing ideas for broom charms like a kite has tails, but he made it. Pepper was already playing against a Ravenclaw sixth year, but she waved at him warmly.

Tony sat down across from another Ravenclaw boy in his year; Tony thought his name was Bruce Banner.

"Up for a game, Banner?" Tony asked, pulling out his own chess pieces. "Haven't seen you here much before."

"No, I, uh," Banner stammered. "I keep to myself a lot. Pepper dragged me out. Yeah, a game, sure. Sounds good." He got out his own pieces and they began to set themselves up.

"She'll do that," Tony said, grinning.

Jarvey worked his way out of Tony's book bag, then, hopping up on the table. "You smell like wet dog," he said to Bruce.

Bruce's eyes widened, and then he laughed in a rather strained way.

"Don't take anything Jarvey says personally," Tony reassured the Ravenclaw. "He's much better at pretending to be a dumb animal than I am. Come on, Jarv, don't scare off my prey before I have a chance to play with him."

Tony grinned, and Jarvey darted up onto his shoulder and told Tony, "You've got scrambled eggs in your skull." Then he climbed over Tony's head, mussing up his hair, and perched on the other shoulder to peer at the board.

"Is he just going to sit there and stare the whole time?" Banner said somewhat nervously.

"Yeah, he'll stay put. He's very well behaved for a jarvey. Or are you looking for a reason to handicap me? We've already got our own brains and the experience of our armies. I doubt one more rabid furball between the two of us is going to tip the scales far in my favor." Tony scratched Jarvey's head as he said this.

So he almost didn't catch the expression that flitted across Bruce's face in response.

It was almost an expression of startled, wicked amusement. It softened to an abashed smile. "No, I suppose not," Bruce said. "Let's see how we're matched as is."

It was a particularly difficult battle. The Ravenclaw's game alternated between meticulous and impulsive. Tony really had to think. Jarvey kept his commentary unhelpful and insulting, and the chess pieces insisted on arguing about their orders. This was the most fun he'd had playing wizard's chess in a long time. This Banner kid was really quite good.

Tony won of course, but it was a close thing. And when Tony congratulated Bruce on a spectacular game, he just shrugged and said, "Well, thanks, but I know I'm out of practice."

That made Tony more interested than anything had yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Heartstrings and Bloodlines**

**Chapter 2**

Tony would have spent the whole Christmas holiday in his rooms in Hogsmeade if Obie hadn't come and found him and dragged him back to London.

Tony did not need to be reminded of his parents, of the home he had grown up in. He refused to stay in the mansion and instead took over the top floor of the Stark Spellworks building, on the corner of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. He poked around in the shop that occupied the ground and first floors, and the second and third floors where the actual magic was done, before retreating to the fourth and continuing his own experiments.

"It's good to see you take an interest in the more commercial side of the business," Obadiah said, when he found Tony poking around in a display of talking watches. "But relax. It's the holidays. Let's go out and do something fun; whatever you want."

"I _want_ to be back in Hogsmeade finishing off the new wand design. The current one's getting a bit beat up. I won't be able to relax until I know I have a backup ready."

"Do you _ever_ relax, Tony?" Obie patted Tony's left forearm, where he knew the boy kept his wand in a secure holster under his sleeve. "It'll be fine. It's not normal for a boy your age to be working all the time. Come on, I'll take you to a Quidditch game, or out for pizza. Just say the word."

Tony wanted to respond that it wasn't normal for a fourteen year old boy to have billions of galleons, a successful line of magical multitools and a superintelligent jarvey. It wasn't normal for a boy to have killed a cursed Hungarian Horntail with a broken wand and survived thanks to a breakthrough in wand technology he made along the way. It wasn't normal to hate your father even though he was dead and your mother for dying.

But he knew there was no point with Obie. So instead he said, "Quidditch is only fun when I'm up there on a broom, and I get quite enough of that at school. As for pizza, order in and I'll be in my workshop."

And he fled.

* * *

"Control your players, Stark!" Steve yelled as he dropped to the ground after calling a time out.

"Control yours, Rogers!" Tony shot back, pointing at the now soaking wet Thor.

"Odinson...Thor was only fulfilling his duties as a Beater! It's Loki who started spellcasting!"

"No, what Thor was doing was harrassment! Loki was defending himself! That was a clear blatching foul!" Tony strode up to the (of course taller, they're always taller) Gryffindor keeper.

"Then why didn't it get called? No, that was perfectly clean Beater play!"

"A little overenthusiastic to crush his brother's head in, don't you think?"

"Only because Loki was cheating!"

"_Prove it._"

Tony and Steve stood toe to toe, glaring at each other. Thor and Loki also looked hard at each other for a long moment.

"I'm sorry, Brother," Thor said then. "Perhaps Stark is right. I should not have been so set on hitting you. This is only a game."

Loki spent a moment looking suspicious, then sighed. "That may be true, but I can't fault you for focusing your attention on the Seeker. I am the most important piece on the board." He smiled slightly mockingly at Thor. "If you're having trouble with your broom, I can understand why you would assume it was me. I have done such things often enough in the past. But I would not jeopardize a real game that way."

Thor patted his brother on the back, dampening his green Quidditch robes. "Then we are agreed. I will forgive you the drenching, since it was in defense. Captain! Let us continue the game."

Steve continued to glare at Tony for a moment, then turned to look at Thor. "Is your broom behaving now?"

"It does seem to be working as well as it has been of late. It is somewhat battered. I shall ask my father to buy me a new one."

The Gryffindor captain looked thoughtful, then nodded. "I'm ready to continue the game if you are," he told Stark.

Tony scowled. "All right," he agreed finally. "Let's have this out properly. No fouls and no casting. Got it, Odinsons?"

They nodded.

The game began again.

It was fierce, even more so than usual between the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. There were many goals attempted. Sif and Rhodey were both excellent chasers, speed, dexterity, and solid throwing ability all around. The big seventh year who was Slytherin keeper had trouble keeping track of them, so they got several goals. But Natasha had a knack for getting the Quaffle back, especially when she coordinated with Vanko, an extremely skilled and somewhat brutal beater. They'd known each other before Hogwarts, played together as children, and it showed.

Once she'd gotten the Quaffle, she tended to pass to Tony, who'd take the heat and make the run down the pitch. He tinkered with his own broom most often, which meant it was often faster, but it also tended to do unexpected things. He'd had to fix it in midair more than once. Rogers could stop Stark's shots more often than not, but he had more trouble with Romanoff's - Rogers was good, but if he didn't see the Quaffle approach, he couldn't stop it. Nat liked to shoot from difficult angles.

They were even at four goals each when the Snitch was spotted.

The Gryffindor Seeker, Hogun, was good, but Loki was better. Loki spotted the Snitch first, high, off to the left of one of the goals, and sped after it. Hogun was on his heels immediately. Loki was fast, but the Snitch zigged downwards. Loki dropped, catching it, before Hogun slammed into him, unable to stop in time.

Loki kept hold of the Snitch, and straightened out his broom's flight well above the ground. There was cheering, and not just from the Slytherins. It had been a spectacular catch.

As they all touched down, Tony clapped Loki on the shoulder. "Not bad, Odinson," he said, grinning. "We might just keep you around."

Loki grimaced and rubbed his shoulder - Tony had hit the forming bruise where Hogun had run into him. But he couldn't help smiling as the Slytherin captain turned away, walking toward the locker rooms. It felt good to win, for once. It felt good to best his brother.

The Slytherin Quidditch team walked companionably into the locker rooms, heading for their usual corners. Loki was just removing his outer robes when he heard a strangely high shriek from the corner behind him, where Tony was. Loki turned with a smirk on his face, wondering what kind of prank would make Tony Stark shriek and who had dared to pull it.

There was a humongous snake uncurling itself from the impossibly small confines of Tony's locker.

Tony pulled his wand out of his left sleeve - it was an odd looking, complex and angular thing, unlike any wand that Loki had ever seen; Loki had never seen it from so close before - and yelled "Protego!"

The snake snorted and flicked its tongue against the resulting shield.

"That's not going to do much good, tasty little thing," it hissed, and slithered around Stark, its head now behind the inventor. He turned, moving the shield to face the snake's head, but the enormous reptile was now encircling him.

Two of the Slytherin team had gone to get help. Vanko and Romanov were looking on with wands drawn and grim expressions. Word must have somehow gotten to the Gryffindor locker room because Thor and Steve burst in.

Natasha cast some kind of hex at the thing, and it just bounced off the green-black scales. "Annoying girl," it muttered, and threw its tail at her. She jumped out of the way. The beast reared back its head, preparing to strike at Tony.

"Wait!" Loki called. "Why are you doing this?"

The snake stopped, blinked, and stared at him.

"What is it to you?" the beast asked finally.

"What it is to me, you ignorant creature, is that he is Tony Stark. Heir to Stark Spellworks and more genius than his father. As much as I may dislike him personally, I will gain much by saving him. Too much to pass up; Tony Stark owing me his life." Loki frowned at the snake. "And what do you get by killing him? What does a being like you want from life?"

"Only a shady spot and a steady supply of goats. Unfortunately it's not up to me," the snake said, blinking, then lining up again for another strike at Stark, who was casting frantically, but nothing offensive seemed to be getting through its hide.

"Why not?" Loki asked, and the snake shook its head and looked at Loki again.

"The Imperius Curse."

"What are your instructions?"

The snake fought to turn its glassy eyes back to Loki. "I am to kill or injure Tony Stark, but under no circumstances to damage his wand."

"If I free you, what would you do?"

"Run," it answered. "There are far too many wizards here."

Loki had little time in which to consider.

He pointed his wand. "Finite!" he cried, and the snake's eyes brightened and filled with fear. It slithered in the direction of the exit.

Thor stood in its way. The huge sixth year blasted it with some sort of energy spell, reminiscent of fiendfyre but bluish. The serpent reared back, coils falling with a deep thud, and it twitched, struggling to get back up. With a roar, Thor stabbed it in the eye with his broomstick. Loki looked away.

Behind him, Tony was standing, looking slightly shaken behind his cocky grin and the large motions he adopted. Come to think of it, excess energy due to fear could explain Tony's behavior most days.

"Thanks, Odinsons. I've taken down giant reptiles alone before but it's not something I've ever wanted to make a habit of. Dragon hunting is entirely too much work." The inventor moved forward to slap Loki on the back gratefully.

Loki put on an unaffected air. "It's nothing personal, we just don't have time to break in a new Quidditch captain or chaser before the next game."

Tony grinned. "Right, right. Nothing to do with how fabulously handsome I am. You know you'd miss me."

"Hardly," Loki replied. He turned to see how the others were faring.

Thor and Natasha were staring, gape-mouthed. Sif looked rather ill.

"Loki, was that...?" she stammered. "Was that..._parseltongue?_"

Loki froze.

Thor frowned. "I didn't know you had such an ability. It is very rare, isn't it? Well, you were always exceptional, Brother." Thor attempted a weak half-smile but even he couldn't miss the aura of dread that permeated the air.

"Very rare," Loki said, barely loud enough to be audible.

"It's only ever been recorded in dark wizards," Natasha said, having regained control of her face and looking at Loki appraisingly.

"Specifically," Loki continued, narrowing his eyes, "only in Salazar Slytherin and his descendants." He looked up at Thor. "There is nothing like that in the lineage that our parents are so proud of. But then...there's never been a Slytherin in the family before, has there, Thor?" Loki's eyes burned bright with new suspicion. "I have always been...different, is that not true?"

Thor looked away, but then back up to Loki determinedly. "Perhaps so, but you are my brother. Nothing will change that. We will find out what is happening and we will face it together."

Loki couldn't take in Thor's words, not with the chaos that was going on in his head. Parselmouth. Dark wizard. Descendant of Salazar. No wonder he felt so at home in Slytherin house, while his oaf of a brother sat at Gryffindor table like a long-planted tree.

"So what did it say?"

Loki snapped out of his bitter introspection at Stark's words, but for a moment he couldn't form a reply.

"The snake. What did it say to you in its snaky little language?"

Loki nearly smiled at that. "It was sent to kill you, obviously. Well, if it could without damaging your wand."

"What spell was on it that you ended?"

"Imperius Curse. Whoever did it apparently didn't bother to provide a cover story. Didn't expect there to be a Parselmouth around to ask questions." Loki laughed bitterly.

"Whoever did it? It was just giving out information and you didn't think to ask _who_ is out to steal my wand?" Tony shook his head.

"My pardon, my concern was for your immediate health." Loki shot him a bored look. "Perhaps my priorities were a bit out of order."

"And it's dead now, thanks to your overenthusiastic brother." Stark looked very put out.

"Indeed." Loki rolled his eyes. The carnage was quite impressive, and there was a crowd gathering around the huge snake corpse now sprawled across the locker room. The two Slytherins slipped out the back to continue their conversation.

"So my wand. That's what they're after." Tony contemplated the wand in his hand, and then slid the strange angular contraption back into its arm holster. "But how were they intending to get it?"

Loki thought. This was a puzzle. "Someone would have brought that beast down before you were killed," said the longer-haired boy. "They seem a competent enough wizard that death by giant reptile was probably not their intent. The whole wizarding world knows that you singlehandedly brought down a cursed Hungarian Horntail when you were thirteen. Still, you're very lucky not to have landed yourself in the hospital wing."

Enlightenment spread itself across Tony's face.

"The hospital wing. I'd be separated from the rest of Slytherin House, just waiting for someone to come along and steal my wand, maybe finish me off once they've done that. Well, they've failed. I'm not going there now."

There was a mischievous gleam in Loki's eye. "But you do want to find out who it is that is trying to kill you, yes?"

"That would be ideal, yes. Are you suggesting I spring their trap?"

"I'm suggesting _we,_" Loki said, setting a hand on Tony's shoulder, "set a trap for _them._"

Tony looked at the older boy, his eyebrows lifting in appraisal, and his mouth gave in to an interested smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Heartstrings and Bloodlines**

**Chapter 3**

"Do you require an injury to assist with the verisimilitude of our story?" Loki asked Tony, wand out, half serious, half prodding the Quidditch captain he habitually butted heads with.

"Nah, I actually think I might have broken a toe kicking that monster. Nothing I wouldn't trust Pepper to fix, but it's convenient. How about you?"

Loki blinked at Stark, wondering if he'd really broken a bone and if so, why he hadn't shown any sign of it. Then Loki recalled his mind to the question.

Rubbing at his sore shoulder, he answered, "I shouldn't have a problem playing this up. Hogunn has a surprising amount of momentum for a Seeker."

Tony chuckled. "They do usually tend to the lighter side. But sometimes a captain has to take into account experience, and brooms."

"I've watched them practice with their alternates. If I were in Rogers's place, I would have picked the Storm boy as Seeker. He may get distracted occasionally but he's a better flier than Hogunn."

Tony smirked. "Good thing for you that Johnny wasn't on the pitch today then," he teased.

Loki scowled. "Good for our score, maybe. But good for me? My shoulder begs to differ." He rubbed at the spot again, his still-ready wand getting in his way a bit, then he looked curiously at Stark. "You've just been attacked by a gargantuan snake and you don't even have your wand out. Do you have any sense of self-preservation?"

"A. Reaction time is actually faster from the sheath if I'm in practice. B. If you just wave the thing around without paying attention you're liable to get disarmed before you even see it coming. C. The more I let people look at my wand, the more they'll know about its designs. I'm not exactly comfortable with that."

Loki blinked. "Forgive me, I was very wrong about you. You're actually more paranoid than any Auror."

"I've got reason to be," Stark muttered, the most serious thing Loki had ever heard him say.

"Yes, I suppose you have."

They walked in silence for a few scant moments, but Stark was never silent for long.

"So who else do you plan on bringing in on this? Strange, maybe?"

Loki just looked at him.

"Well they'll be accounting for my skills, and no offense, but I don't think ability on a broomstick is going to do much good here. And neither will twinkling lights."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "I am a descendant of Salazar Slytherin and you think I can't do more than make fairy fire?"

Tony returned the appraising look. "So you want to go this alone? No backup? You know this isn't a game, right? I almost died today and it seems like it's becoming a bad habit."

"Perhaps not, but I suspect Healer Strange may have a part in this. Even if unwillingly. We know whoever is behind this does not balk at the Unforgivable Curses."

Tony looked hard at Loki. "Who _would_ you trust, then?"

"I am loath to say it, but perhaps we should be informing Headmaster Fury of our plans?"

"Oh I'm sure he'll find out soon enough. He may only have one eye but he _sees everything._ It's incredibly eerie."

"Believe me, I know what you mean."

"But somehow I don't think he'd approve of this; our priorities might be somewhat different. _I'd_ like to find out who's out to get me and stop them permanently. _Fury_ is probably more concerned that I don't die _on school grounds_ and make _him_ look bad. He'd rather I be kept safe here and ambushed again somewhere more discreet."

Loki shook his head. "Your paranoia continues to astound me."

It was around then that they arrived at the hospital wing. The Quidditch game had been a long one, and then there was the whole giant snake thing, so all in all, curfew was approaching. They didn't have much trouble stalling long enough that they would have had trouble getting back to the dungeon in time.

Loki rubbed at his much-abused shoulder and complained loudly. "I won't be able to sleep if this keeps up. Can't you do something?" he said, arrogantly expectant.

Strange tutted and frowned. "It's only a bruise; I'm sorry it's bothering you so much but there's not too much more I can do."

Then it was Stark's turn. Loki lay on his bed, moaning quietly and refusing to leave until Tony had been seen to.

The toe really had been broken, and so Strange took some time healing it, and working to lessen the ugly purple bruising around it. All around, it was well past curfew when that was done.

When they were finally left alone in the large shadowy room, Loki spotted an envelope sitting on the windowsill between their beds. He picked it up and looked at it curiously.

"What is that?" Stark asked, seeing the motion.

"'To the boy who will come to the Hospital Wing in the aftermath of today's Quidditch.' No name. Just that."

"So it's for one of us. Who do you think it's from?"

"It says it's from Heimdall."

"That creepy centaur who teaches Divination?"

"Yes." Loki shivered almost imperceptibly. "There is something about his eyes, isn't there?"

"Definitely. Would not trust that guy as far as I can throw him." Tony tapped his fingers on his arm, where his wand lay. "So what's this ominous little piece of parchment got to say?"

Loki laid it out below the window, glowing wand hovering, so they could both read it.

_Tonight I gazed upon the stars, and what I saw I cannot fathom the meaning of, but that I am to write and send these terrible words: You are the wizard who will bring about Seidrok._

"This is ridiculous," Tony said. "No such thing as destiny. He's talking out of his huge horsey arse."

_You, and the man who took the place of your father and who tells you nothing but lies and cares for nothing but power. Your destiny is to defy him and start the conflict that will tear apart our world. You may not wish this to be your place, but the time will come when you know it is necessary._

_You may have learned something of your situation from the danger you faced today, and I'm afraid it is far from the last of the uncomfortable truths you will learn._

"Seidrok."

Loki stared at the parchment, frozen.

"This makes too much sense. I am descended from Salazar Slytherin. I am the wizard who is destined to bring about Seidrok."

Tony looked disgusted. "Divination is bull crap. Don't listen to anything that loopy centaur says. The only ones who believe that 'HE SEES ALL' nonsense are the second year girls who swoon over his muscles but have never had the _pleasure_ of sitting through his class."

Loki's eyes were still glued to the page. "True prophecies are not to be taken lightly, and the prophecies of Seidrok are the most often studied. Very few would refute them and even fewer would _joke_ about them. Heimdall believes this. He believes that Odin is the Falling Ruler, and I am the Firebrand. That I will bring the wizarding world to its end."

Tony scoffed. "Yeah, I'm sure he believes _everything_ he says. Seriously, have you heard him lecture? 'The ursas are growling. Guard your sustaining force.'" Tony mocked the deep, expressionless voice very badly.

Loki finally looked up.

"You have never taken Divination," he said with a bemused frown.

"Yeah, well, as much as I prefer Arithmancy, there are only so many times I can sit through a lecture on calculations I could do in my sleep when I was five. I mostly work on stuff for the Spellworks, but I've skipped a few times just to sit in on other classes and mock them. Have you ever heard one of Coulson's Muggle Studies lectures? I mean come on, who doesn't know how a light bulb works? It's a simple energized substance, like a wand core. Well, until you get into diodes, that's a bit more complex. But. Well. The thing about Muggle technology is it's all connecting the dots. Anyone could do anything with it if they just had the right instructions."

Loki blinked at him, taken aback. Then he scowled.

"Not everyone has the luxury of pursuing whatever knowledge they wish. Some of us are expected to uphold the traditions of wizardkind."

"And why should you do what's expected of you?"

"I don't want to be the Firebrand; I don't want to be the one who ruins everything! I don't want to be the villain!"

"Then you won't be." Tony sighed. "Listen, being your own thing, going your own way, it's not easy but it's worth it."

"Says the boy who works in his father's shop over the holidays. Even after the man's dead he still defines your life."

"What is this obsession you have with me and my father? Why does _everyone_ think I do what I do because of him?"

"You have the insufferable smugness of a firstborn and heir. I've dealt with the likes of you all my life. You think you can tell everyone what to do because you've been trained to it, trained as a leader. Trained to have confidence above all else, to deny and cover your missteps in favor of appearing infallible. You are what your father has made you, and nothing more!"

"Take that BACK!"

Instead of drawing his wand, Tony leapt at Loki, pinning his wand hand to the bed and shaking a fist in his face.

Loki's mind raced for something to say, before they heard a cough from the doorway.

Healer Strange came in, looking threateningly at them. "Do I need to separate you two so you can rest?"

"No!" they both yelped, and dove back under the covers.

He looked at them with suspicion, but then nodded and went away again.

Loki spoke then, quiet and flat.

"If that had been the trap, we would both be caught in it.

Tony nodded, sharp and matter-of-fact.

"Right. No more off-topic discussions. What's the plan?"

Loki lifted his wand and began muttering in the mishmash of Latin and archaic Germanic syllables that meant spellcasting. He stood up, and in his place on the bed, tendrils of light began to form into a shape, which then became more and more solid-looking until if Tony didn't know any better, he would think Loki was twins. Tony looked at the sleeping form and grinned, standing to make room for what he assumed was the next step. And indeed, more lights floated over the spot he had been occupying a moment ago.

"So where are we going to hide?" the younger Slytherin asked curiously. But the flow of chanting did not stop when the second double was completed. Soon Loki was a blur of thin air, pale face and black robes nowhere to be seen, only visible in the shifting edges of his silhouette. Tony was not surprised when he followed, and looking down at his own hands revealed only the movement of shadows before his eyes.

"I thought we'd move across the way," Loki's voice said, closer than Tony was expecting. The shifting shadows collected on one of the beds lining the other, windowless side of the long room.

Tony sat down next to the indentation formed by the other boy. "Yeah, this seems like a good spot."

Loki's voice came hesitantly, after that. "You do know I'm right here, don't you? There are plenty of beds."

"Well, it's not like we're actually going to be _sleeping_, is it? We might as well be as close together as possible. Don't want anyone to hear us, after all." Loki could hear the grin in the way Tony's voice changed shape. "I'd ask if you mind, but then again, I really don't care. This spot's mine now."

Loki was on the verge of reminding the Stark boy who he was, what he was, how dangerous he could potentially be, the Firebrand, the creature he was sitting so close to in the dark regardless of all Stark's paranoia. But it seemed that Tony genuinely didn't care about any of it.

Loki couldn't help but smile, to himself, invisibly, in the silence.

"So what _are_ we going to do, since we aren't sleeping?" Tony's voice interrupted him.

The boy really couldn't stop talking for long. Loki rolled his eyes invisibly. "Pay attention and not get ourselves killed, that's what," Loki replied in the same quiet but casual undertone.

Eventually they decided to make use of one of Tony's accidental discoveries - overzealous use of cheering charms does wonders to keep one up at night. Then they argued cheerfully over Quidditch for a while, then discussed the Potions homework, which, it turned out, Tony hadn't started, but was trying to sound like he had, to draw the relevant information out of Loki.

The bare squeaking of the door quieted them both instantly, and drew their eyes to the shadow creeping out of it and along the floor. Or perhaps not a shadow, since no figure cast it. A puddle? It separated itself from the doorway and continued to slink towards their beds.

It crept over and up the side of Tony's bed, soft, dark folds visible in the moonlight.

A Lethifold.

Tony felt sick as he watched the Lethifold creep across and cover the illusionary version of himself. But he had to keep watching in silence. The whole point of this exercise was to find out who was after Tony's wand, and anything enveloped by a Lethifold - clothing, talismans, hairpins, anything at all - would never be seen again. If someone wanted his wand, they would have to come and extract it before it could be digested.

Tony tapped his fingers quietly on the wand in its holster. No one was getting ahold of it, he reminded himself. But the scene in front of him appeared far too real.

He didn't expect how much worse things could get.

A dark-skinned wizard crept in the door and towards the illusory figures on the beds.

They barely breathed. Even in the darkness, Tony recognized the trained and battle-hardened Auror very well, and was not about to reveal himself if this man was here to kill him.

The Auror waved his wand in a nonverbal spell, but there were no results. He tried again. When, again, nothing happened, the man prodded the Lethifold with the tip of his wand. Confused and hungry, the Lethifold turned and began creeping towards the Auror where he stood between the two beds, leaving an empty space where the illusion of Tony had been.

The man stood in confused indecision for a moment before turning around and leaving the room, the stymied Lethifold creeping after him hungrily.

As the door closed after the two eerie figures, Tony began to breathe again, but not in relief.

"Was that...Derek Rhodes?" Loki whispered, mouth dry.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, this is so bad, Rhodey and Star...their dad's part of this, probably Imperiused. We have to do something."

Loki dropped the illusions so he could keep better track of Tony and what he seemed likely to do. "I don't know about you but I'm not interested in going anywhere near that Lethifold. We got what we came for. We know who came to finish you off, as much good as that will do us if he's swallowed whole by that creature."

Tony waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Oh, I'm not mounting a rescue mission right now either. He's probably the one who brought the Lethifold, so he must have some way of controlling it. So he's probably not being eaten right now. And if he is, well, better than being Imperiused. I think I know Uncle Derek well enough to say that. But I don't..." Tony's words finally stumbled to a halt. "Rhodey's house was always the one place where everything was normal," he said finally.

"Nothing gets to stay normal forever," Loki said in a low murmur. "Especially if this truly is to be the era of Seidrok."

"I don't believe in that," Tony said, turning on Loki with a determined glare. "There's enough awful stuff happening that we don't need to be worrying about idiotic prophecies too." His eyes turned back down to the bed. "This is bad. I need to tell Rhodey. Can't wait until tomorrow." He looked thoughtful, then nudged the schoolbag at his side. "Hey, Jarvey, you up?"

The small mammal crawled out of the bag and into Tony's hair, licking his ear. "For you, Sir? Always."

"Cards on the table, eh? I agree. it's time," Tony replied, stroking the furry body.

"That is not a normal jarvey," Loki said, blinking.

"No, he's not," Tony said. "Jarvey, feel up to scaling Gryffindor Tower and filling Rhodey in on the bad news?"

"Certainly, Sir," Jarvey said, running down Tony's leg and giving his ankle a final affectionate nip. "But do endeavor not to get yourself killed while I'm gone."

"I always do my best, Jarv," he said, and soon the oversized talking ferret was slipping out the window and onto the stonework.


End file.
